


sing me to sleep

by queenliest (orphan_account)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/queenliest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke takes care of you while you are drunk. </p><p>
  <b> [Luke Hemmings/Reader] </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing me to sleep

* * *

Luke hadn’t realized until now that you were drunk. 

The two of you were at a party; the two of you were in one of your friends—Lindsey’s—house, celebrating her birthday. You and your other friends, as well as Luke and his friends, had been enjoying endless cups of liquor. While you were enjoying endless shots of vodka whose brand name you had failed to recognize, Luke had been enjoying endless cups of label-less beers. 

And now, here you were, at least an hour later, drunk and tipsy, and obviously out of your mind. 

When Luke had moved toward you, as though to check up on you, he had failed to notice how you were slurring your words. 

“Hey, **(Your Name)** ,” he said, calling your name gently and gripping your elbow to steer you away from your friends. You didn’t seem to mind, though. You were bouncy and a little bit high; you were swaying and dancing into your own tuneless beat. 

“Hey, Luke,” you said your boyfriend’s name, giggling. You were currently holding a cup of vodka in your hand; you offered it to him but he shook his head, which made you frown a bit. 

Luke had allowed a frown to grace his lips, curious as to why you were acting this way. 

“Hey, Luke,” you said, tilting your head to the side. Luke had found the action extremely adorable; he had found the notion a little too cute for you. “Why are you frowning?” 

You reached out a finger and traced his jutting lower lip. 

He removed your hand and held it gently in his grasp. He stared at you for a long minute, observing you and trying to notice whatever it was that had been so different about you. Your cheeks were flushed a bright red; rivulets of sweat poured down your cheeks. Luke had briefly thought that the room was too hot and that was the reason why you were sweating a lot, but he dismissed the thought as soon as he heard you speak. 

“Luke,” you said his name again, laughing. You removed your hand from his grip and began swaying your hips gently, even without music to accompany your actions. “Let’s dance!” 

Luke had realized you were slurring your words. 

“Hey, **(Your Name)** ,” he said, garnering your attention. You looked at him, curiosity sparkling in your eyes as though you were a cat who had found something worthwhile to play with. Luke waited until your attention was truly focused on him before he began to speak, continuing from where he left off. “Don’t you think you’re a little too drunk?” 

“Drunk?” you echoed, your voice rising and your tone one of disbelief. “Me? Never!” 

Luke scoffed. “You clearly are if you keep denying it.” 

“Huh?” you said, your face had contorted into one of confusion, as though your mind had had a hard time processing what your boyfriend had just said. 

“You’re drunk, **(Your Name)** ,” he said, sighing. 

“I’m not!” You retorted, your lips forming into a pout that Luke had found extremely cute. 

“You are,” Luke argued. He proceeded to grab the cup of your unfinished vodka in your hands, and not once did he stop even when you were shouting at him to drop it far too many times. He proceeded to lift you and carry you in his arms, all the while not listening to your protests; he didn’t care whether he had caused a scene at Lindsey’s party or not, didn’t care whether people had gotten the wrong idea or not. All that mattered to him right now was that you were drunk and that he needed to get you home as soon as possible. 

And that as soon as possible meant right now in his dictionary. 

\- 

When he proceeded to lift you out of the vehicle, he had discovered that you were peacefully asleep on the passenger seat. You were letting out a soft snore, one that he had found too cute, and one that he had loved to hear whenever he was sleeping beside you. 

Luke had allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips, before he proceeded to carry your sleeping body out of the car. 

\- 

He had laid you gently on your bed, your head resting on the mountain of soft pillows. He was careful and gentle, making sure he didn’t make any noise that might stir you in your sleep. He had made sure to be as silent as possible, making sure that he didn’t wake you up in your slumber. 

He had pulled a blanket over your head. He had placed your hands so that they were resting on your chest and not inside the blankets. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, and was about to leave your room when he had felt a tug on the hem of his shirt. 

He looked down at you, and yelped a bit when he saw your eyes wide open, staring at him. You looked sleepy and angelic; you looked adorable and loveable in your state. But you being awake had startled him, and he almost had to clutch his chest in order to calm his heartbeat. 

“Whoa,” he said. He had tried to calm his rapidly beating heart by taking a few quick breaths. “You scared me.” 

You didn’t answer; you just stared at him with your wide eyes. Even in the dim light of the moon—Luke hadn’t bothered to turn the night lamp on in case he might wake you up—he could see how vibrant and bright your eyes were. Even in the dim light of the moon, he found himself wanting to drown in the endless abyss that were your eyes. 

“Cuddle,” you said, your voice as soft as a whisper. You tugged on his shirt again, as though pulling him closer to you. Luke didn’t budge from his place, though, and it had internally made you irritated. 

“Cuddle,” you repeated again, this time, tugging on his shirt a bit more forcefully. 

“Okay, okay,” Luke said, raising his hands in surrender. You slowly lowered your hand to remove your grip from his shirt; but not once did you stop staring at him. Not once did you stop willing him with your powerful gaze. 

And finally, he surrendered. 

He lay beside you on the bed, cocooning himself inside the blanket he had wrapped around your form just a while ago. He had wrapped both of his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. You buried your head against his chest; you placed your hands against his chest, letting them rest where they were. 

Luke leaned down and inhaled the scent of your hair. He had allowed the familiar scent of you, had allowed the scent he had loved slowly rock him to relaxation and comfort. He had allowed your presence to give him what he needed—tranquillity and serenity. 

Luke had begun humming a song you had loved so much; he had begun humming the song you had been so familiar with ever since you were a teenager. He had begun humming a song you had always loved to hear before going to sleep and after waking up. His voice had sent something inside you; his voice held the solace you had always needed so much. And slowly, finally, you had allowed his humming to rock you to sleep. 

And you fell asleep, with you in his arms. 

You fell asleep with the both of your feet entangled together under the sheets. 

When Luke had seen your eyes peacefully closed, he had allowed a small smile to grace his lips. He had thought, briefly, before he went to sleep, that he didn’t mind taking care of you even if you were drunk every day if it will always lead to this—if it will always lead to this cute cuddling session he was currently having now. 

\- 


End file.
